


Fall, Never Falter

by aj_socks



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 21:31:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2040963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aj_socks/pseuds/aj_socks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco needs help with his father, Harry wants a date. Somehow, they both get what they need.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fall, Never Falter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sdk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sdk/gifts).



> **TROPE: Pretend Couple**
> 
>  
> 
> A/N: Thank you M so much for helping me with this!

Rain drops beat against my umbrella as I rushed through the crowded Muggle streets and I, unconcerned with anything except the downpour, didn’t notice Potter until he followed me into the bookstore. He hadn’t changed as much as I thought he would after the war. His hair had remained untamed and he hadn’t grown any taller, but somehow his confidence made him seem so. 

“Malfoy,” he said after almost of a minute of silence. I had expected to hear a hint of malice in his voice. He’d never liked me, not since first year when we talked in Madame Malkin’s; but his voice was warm, pleasant even.

“Pothead.”

Silence settled between us for a good minute, but Potter ruined it by saying, “Pansy said you hadn’t changed much. She was right.”

“How do you know Pansy?”

“Neville. They’ve been partners for a few months now.”

“Oh.” That’s right. She’d become an Auror, despite my insistence that they didn’t want any of us in any government job, especially law enforcement. But then, if they took Neville Longbottom, they must be desperate. 

“I barely get to talk to Neville anymore because of some case they’ve been working.”

“Maybe he’s not busy at all and just doesn’t want to see you.” I took a deep breath. They had been busy. In fact, I hadn’t seen Pansy more than a few seconds for the past month. “What do you want?”

“Nothing, really. I came to meet someone at the pub next door and saw you.”

“Then go wait there.”

“Say, do you want to get a drink?”

“If I wanted a drink, I’d have gone to the pub in the first place.”

He laughed. “Fine. Want a book?”

I did, but his offer alarmed me. Since the war ended a year ago, the Ministry found every excuse to keep my family’s fortune from us. The oldest, most archaic wizarding laws were used and in the end, we had to rent a flat from a Muggle because the wizarding world had shunned us. We found ourselves working in less than savory conditions to pay for the one bedroom flat; well, except my father, who initially refused to get a job with Muggles but now couldn’t get a job at all.

“Do whatever you want. I don’t care.” I cared. In fact, I wanted that book he offered too. But I put on my best sneer and walked ahead of him to the autobiography section and pretended to be interested. He’d leave eventually.

“If this is what you like, you have more in common with Hermione than I thought.”

I scoffed and picked out a random book about an important Muggle and flipped through it like I found it more fascinating than I did him. 

Potter moved so he stood a mere inch away from me. “You’re still prideful as hell. That’s good.”

“What exactly do you want, Potter? Didn’t you have someone to meet? I bet you didn’t have anyone to meet at all. What is it? Did the Ministry ask you to check up on me? Make sure I’m not torturing Muggles in my spare time?”

“I was curious, is all.” He rubbed the back of his head, making his hair appear more messy in the process, and said, “Hold on. I’ll be back.”

Potter strode away like he knew exactly where he was going and disappeared. A few seconds later, he walked past me again with a sheepish smile on his lips and I frowned, unsure what to think. Just as I decided to bail, he appeared in front of me again holding a book with a picture of a mountain on it. 

“It’s called _The Hobbit_ ,” he said. “I think you’ll like it.”

“Hobbit?”

“It’s got a dragon in it.”

That interested me, so I took it and read the back. I’d heard of it before; the author, despite being a Muggle, was well known even in the wizarding world. Fantastic author or not, no book written by a Muggle had a place in my father’s library so I had never read it. Potter seemed particularly pleased by my expression, which I strained to keep neutral, but my interest must have slipped through the cracks. I gave my best frown and handed the book back to him. 

“Do you want it?”

“No thanks. Looks dull.”

“Liar. You want to read it, don’t you? Trust me, it’s a classic.”

“Draco?” Pansy’s familiar voice came from our right. “Is that Harry Potter with you?”

I glared at Potter and said, “We ran into each other, that’s all. He was just leaving.”

“I invited him, actually. Though, I had intended to tell you before we went to the pub to meet him…”

“You did what?” I balked at her and I was hardly able to comprehend what she was saying. “Why would you do that?”

“I had a few reasons,” she said and smiled at Potter. “He kept asking about you and you were asking about him so I thought I’d set you up. It was Astoria’s idea.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Wait, Draco -”

I ignored her and headed for the door. She’d been like this since school. Always ready and willing to manipulate people because she could. It was like a strange compulsion. This time she’d gone too far, though.

The rain hadn’t let up at all so I opened my umbrella just outside the door. Potter grabbed my hand and gave me _The Hobbit_. A receipt stuck out from the middle and sometime, he’d put a charm on the book to keep it dry.

“It’s yours.”

“I don’t need - Merlin’s beard. Fine. I’ll take it.”

“We should get a drink sometime. Or dinner. Or something.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Er, yes?”

I paused and looked down at the book. Maybe if I liked the book enough, I thought I might consider it, but I didn’t want him to know that so I shrugged and didn’t answer at all. 

Later on, when I returned home to find my father asleep on his faded green wing chair, a bottle of Firewhisky hanging loosely from his fingertips to the floor, and a line of drool sliding down his chin, I sat down on the loveseat next to him and took a swig from the bottle. The whisky burned but I took another and another, wishing that I had just said yes.

~~**~~

“Welcome to Gerald’s Burgers. What can I get you today?” I couldn’t muster up the energy to fake happiness so I didn’t and continued to read behind the register. The owner was an American Muggle and expected me to be obnoxiously happy (are all of them that way?) so usually I tried my best to grin like I meant it. Today, though, _The Hobbit_ had most of my attention and no customer could make me look up for more than a few seconds.

The fryer grease sizzled as Fred, my co-worker and newest enemy, dumped frozen chips into it. He liked cooking but hated people so he dictated that since he was hired two weeks before me, he didn’t have to work the register. Ever. How I’d love to hex him…

“Hmm I’d like one Draco Malfoy, thanks.” 

Astoria grinned at me from the other side of the counter. Her eyes sparkled with a mischievous edge that reminded me briefly of Dumbledore. The thought of him caused the genuine smile that had crept onto my face to disappear. I closed my book and sighed.

“What are you doing here?”

“Can’t I visit my best friend?” She looked around the empty dining area. Her eyes stopped briefly at an old, family picture of the manager’s. “This place is… quaint, I suppose. I can’t believe you didn’t let me visit sooner.”

“It’s not quaint. It’s… a job.” It smelled like grease and the air was hot and stuffy because my manager refused to open the windows. I turned to Fred. “I’m taking my break.”

“You just got here.”

I shrugged and took off my apron as I rounded the counter to meet Astoria. We sat down outside and I let myself relax and took the biggest breath of fresh air that I could handle. Pansy and Astoria hooked up after the war and became like a second family to me. I didn’t want to lose them like I’d lost Crabbe and Goyle, but a small part of me hated that anyone knew my situation, even them.

A few Muggles walked into the burger joint and a bell at the top of the door jingled. I watched the door swing shut and Astoria watched me, that twinkle still in her eyes. 

“What is it, Astoria?”

“I heard you met Potter last night.”

“Pansy told you.”

“Did you think she wouldn’t? I also heard that he bought you a book _and_ wanted a date”

“Is there something you want to say?”

“I can’t imagine why you said no. You used to jerk off to him back at Hogwarts and don’t even try to deny it. Plus, he probably could have helped you get a better job.”

“I’d rather let a hippogriff claw out my eyes than tell Potter I work here.”

The smile fell away from Astoria’s face. “He could help you. He’d want to. Pansy wants to help you too but you won’t let her either.”

“We are not going to be another one of his charity cases. I can do it on my own.” I drummed my fingers on the cover of _The Hobbit_. How I wished to be the dragon! To be curled up in riches without a care in the world, not knowing that a band of dwarves and a hobbit travel to steal it all away from me. If only I had the strength of my namesake, I could save my father from drinking himself to death and get our fortune back. 

“Then don’t let it be a charity case. Pay him.”

“That’s called bribery.”

“Not for that. Your father.”

“Potter can’t stop my father from destroying his liver.”

“Maybe not,” she said. “But it might be enough to get him to respond. You said he hasn’t talked to you in weeks.”

Silence settled between us and I found myself staring at the cover of my book without actually seeing it, as my mind had wandered back to my father’s green chair. He used to get up and pace around the room. He used to complain about things and scowl and cook up schemes to get our money back. But as time went on, he paced less, his expression grew distant, and the only future he talked about involved a bottle. Now he didn’t talk at all and only got up to use the loo. He never showered unless we coaxed him into it, he stopped shaving, and Mother had resorted to hand feeding him since he barely managed a few bites on his own. It was like his soul had been taken out of him, leaving a broken shell. 

Astoria didn’t know all that though. Neither did Pansy. I couldn’t tell them, I couldn’t let them see how bad it’d gotten. This idea brought me hope, though. Potter might be able to elicit an emotion out of him, albeit a negative one. Maybe if he thought his own heir had seduced the wizarding world’s Golden Boy, he’d find the strength to start scheming again. 

She kissed my cheek before she left and pressed a small piece of paper in my hand with Potter’s address on it. I pretended I didn’t need it, but after work I found myself in front of his door, ready to throw away the last of my pride to ask his help. The door swung open before I got the chance and Potter almost ran into me.

“How did you… Pansy?”

“Astoria.”

“Ah. Did you change your mind about the, uh, date?”

“No,” I said. “I’m here because I need … your help.” Inward I cringed and fought the urge to take it back. 

“Er - What?”

“Astoria thought that you might -”

“Okay.”

“What?” What had I expected? To be shot down? Rejected like the beginning of our first year of Hogwarts?

“I’ll do it. On one condition.”

“Money? I can give you as much as you want after I get it back.”

“No. I want that date.”

“Why?”

Harry shrugged and walked up to me, leaving only a few inches between us. “What do you need help with?”

And so I explained it to him in the most vague way I could manage - that my father had fallen into a pit of despair that I couldn’t rouse him from but I made bloody sure Potter knew that nothing was wrong with anything else, that I didn’t need help getting my family’s money because it was all taken care of. He listened without any judgement; in fact, I thought I saw a hint of suspicion that he wouldn’t explain. 

“Here.” I handed him a sheet of paper with my address on it. “Be there at six. I haven’t told my Mum so I need to go.”

“That’s only two hours from now.”

“I don’t want to wait.”

He smiled and my heart beat fast against my chest. My cheeks became hot and I turned away before he could notice. After all these years, the fact that he still had such a profound affect on me…

I took a deep breath and told myself that everything would be okay. I keep repeating it to myself as I went home, hoping that by the time Potter arrived I’d believe it.

~~**~~

My mother watched me from the kitchen as she lifted her wand to charm the wooden spoon to stirred the spaghetti sauce. The scent of fresh garlic bread that filled the flat made me think back to the countless home cooked meals my mother made during the holidays. She loved cooking, but her passion came from baking rich desserts and chocolates. Once I caught my father in the kitchen late at night sneaking a bit of chocolate despite his claim that he didn’t like sweets. The memory brought a smile to my lips as I used magic to shave the stubble off my father’s face.

To get him ready for dinner, all I needed to do was coax him into doing the things that used to be routine. I lead him to his bedroom, started to undress him, and then he took over, going through the motions that he once did daily. I took him back to his green chair and sat next to him. He never once saw me. His eyes never focused and he stared at same spot on the wall like he did everyday. The spot was a discoloration in the wallpaper, a mild stain from the flat’s previous occupants. There were a few throughout the house. 

“Harry Potter is coming for dinner today,” I said. “Do you remember him?”

No response.

“I don’t hate him anymore. In fact, I like him. We’re dating, isn’t that strange?”

Still nothing.

“Do you still hate him? He won, remember? He killed the Dark Lord. He’s letting all those Mudbloods change our world. He’s letting them change us.”

A brief flicker of recognition flashed across his face. I sat up straighter, having lost hope that he’d respond, and I repeated myself. He didn’t respond this time. I slouched into the sofa and sighed. He might be in there, somewhere, but I couldn’t fathom why he was acting the way he was. I wanted my father back. 

“Please. Please let this work.” I leaned forward and pressed my forehead to my father’s shoulder and closed my eyes and imagined myself back at the Manor before the war, before I grew up, when my father had been the strongest man I’d ever known. 

_Knock. Knock._

“Draco,” my mother said. “Your _friend_ is here.”

I grabbed the half empty bottle of Firewhisky off the coffee table and downed a massive gulp to calm my nerves. It burned and I barely managed to swallow it before I doubled over coughing. When I answered the door, Potter had a sheepish grin on his face, and in his hands he held out a vase of flowers. 

“Can I come in?” 

Suddenly I felt tired and sluggish, and only after a minute did I move out of the way so that Potter could come inside. His brows furrowed as he looked around at our humble abode but, to my relief, he didn’t comment on it. 

“It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Potter.” My mother kept her voice pleasant, but it was the same voice I remembered her using when Father brought company she wasn’t fond of. “I’m sorry about the mess. Draco didn’t tell me you were coming until this afternoon.”

“Mess?” He looked around again, disbelief written clearly on his face. Our flat had used, mismatching furniture and the wallpaper was old, which was reason enough for my mother to call it dirty. “Compared to mine, it’s spotless.”

“Most people don’t throw dirty clothes all over the place.” I smirked. I hadn’t even seen inside his flat yet but his embarrassment revealed that I had guessed right.

“Draco.”

“It’s okay,” Potter said. He took my hand. “I’m used to it by now. He’s got a sharp tongue, doesn’t he?”

My mother remained tense. “Yes. He’s just like his father in that regard.”

Potter’s hand felt warm in mine and, just for a moment, I allowed myself to take comfort in his touch. The boy who had irritated me all through school, the boy whom I had declared my nemesis, the boy who had stalked me and nearly killed me… for that brief moment, none of that mattered. I felt his eyes on me and suddenly he let go of my hand and wrapped his arm around my torso.

He leaned into me, his breath hot against my ear, and he whispered, “What’s wrong?”

My mother made an indignant noise from the kitchen and made herself busy. I didn’t want to answer him. The safety I felt in his arms infuriated me. It made me weak. I backed away from him, putting as much distance as I could without breaking the feigned intimacy of our pretend relationship.

I lowered my voice so that my mother couldn’t hear. “You’re here because of my father. Don’t go thinking this is anything more than what it is, Potter.” 

“Harry. Call me Harry.”

I tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let me go. “Okay. Harry it is, then.” He squeezed me tighter before he stepped away and went to the kitchen. For several minutes, I watched him talk to my mother with an enthusiasm that contrasted with her apprehension. She handed him the silverware and as he started to set the table, I had the thought to go and help him, but I didn’t move. A strange discolored spot on the wall became interesting and I focused on it, the dark spot on the wall. Dark brown surrounded by eggshell white. Then a fuzzy red thing got in the way, and when it spoke I realized it was Harry.

“Draco? You okay?”

I moved back, startled like I had just been woken up by the sound of his voice, and rubbed my temples. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. Are you done with the table?”

He nodded.

“Good,” I said. “Then come here.” I took his hand and led him to my father. We sat down to his right on the sofa with me in between them. My father’s bottle of Firewhisky sat on the table in front of us so, as I was suddenly self-conscious of my father’s habits, I took it and I touched his shoulder, and his eyes flickered to me before settling slightly to our right. “Father? Look, I brought someone today. It’s Harry Potter.” Nothing. I nudged Harry.

“Uh - Hello, Mr. Malfoy.” I nudged Harry again and made an exaggerated face while motioning my head at my father. “Is it alright with you if I - err, marry your son? He’s quite the catch.”

I groaned and covered my face in my hands. Just great. But then, I had no idea what to say either. 

“We’ve been dating a while now,” Harry continued and put his arm around my waist and pulled me closer. Our legs were flush together and he leaned his head on my shoulder. My face became burning hot.

Then my father’s mouth twitched. A small twitch, so small that I had to confirm it with Potter, who nodded that he had seen it too. 

“We shagged already.” I said it without thinking, wishing beyond wish that it would coax him to speak. Harry made a surprised noise behind me, as did my mother, but I didn’t care. My father opened his mouth, his eyes never moved, but he looked like he wanted to speak. Mother went silent and waited, having seen his movement too, now that she had come into the living room. His mouth closed after a few seconds, and I felt my heart drop and my mouth went dry. 

“Get your father to the table,” Mother said. Her voice was quiet and her eyes remained downcast. “Dinner’s ready.”

Supper started out quiet and awkward. My mother watched us like a hawk as she spelled the utensils to feed my father. Her suspicions of our relationship, or lack thereof, were written clearly on her face, and I could imagine she was just waiting for the chance to out us. Harry didn’t seem fazed, however. He sat across from her, smiling all the while, and his confidence allowed me to relax.

“So,” my mother said, “how long has this been going on?”

“Mother-”

“A month, I’d say, if you count how long it took me to convince him to go on that first date.” The smile on Harry’s face never wavered, and I found myself impressed with his ability to fib on the spot. Perhaps I should have taken more time to prepare our cover story…

“And if I don’t?”

“Then... a week, maybe?”

“What is it that you are doing with your life now that the Dark Lord is gone, hm? I’ve been keeping up with the news and there’s been shockingly little about you. And yet, here you are, dating my son. Are you sure there’s no other motive?”

Harry leaned forward and put his hand over mine. “You’re asking me if I’m an Auror? If I wanted to throw you all in Azkaban, I wouldn’t have vouched for you after the war. I’m here for Draco.”

“Now that we have all that cleared up, let’s start eating, shall we?” I pulled my hand out from under Harry’s and cleared my throat.

“Then what are you doing?” My mother asked. She had let some of the tension go, but I could still hear a slight amount of suspicion in her voice. “Everyone assumed you’d become an Auror with that ginger haired friend of yours.”

“Ron? Turns out we weren’t cut out for it. He’s running the joke shop with his brother and I’m in between things. I’m thinking I might want to work with dragons.”

“Dragons?” I scoffed. 

“Well, one dragon.” He grinned. “He’s a real fiery one. Stubborn, too. He’s especially fond of dark chocolate and lobster and he’s terrified of letting his father down. Best of all, he doesn’t see me as his savior or as a free ticket to whatever he wants.”

“Careful. I might just be using you to get my fortunes back.” He rolled his eyes at me and twirled an obscene amount of spaghetti on his fork. I watched him stuff it into his mouth and suddenly I thought back to my nighttime fantasies. I always wondered what he would look like on his knees, his lips wrapped around my cock. My face heated up and I tried to focus on my dinner instead.

“Something wrong? Your cheeks are red.”

“Its nothing. I just like crab better than lobster. Here I was thinking you were a better stalker than that.”

Harry laughed and reached under the table to squeeze my leg. My mother started to question Harry again, but this time my focus shifted to my father. He swallowed the previous bite and opened his mouth every time the fork poked his lips with another. This wasn’t working. Astoria had been wrong. Harry - No, Potter couldn’t help. Something was wrong with my father and it was getting worse.

A small spot of spaghetti sauce had managed to stain my father’s robes, and seeing it made my heart ache. My father wouldn’t have let himself get dirty like this in front of company, not the father I knew. I felt a hand on my shoulder and I heard my name, but it sounded distorted and slow. Then it stopped and I turned to Harry, who was staring at me with worry along with my mother.

“I - Um, I’m sorry. I don’t know what … I’ll be right back.” The chair made a scraping sound against the floor when I stood up and hurried into the short hallway leading to the bathroom. I grabbed the doorknob, turned it even, but I didn’t open the door. I just stood there. Tears blurred my vision, a tightness in my chest made it hard to breathe, and soon I dropped to the floor.

Everything felt useless. Nothing helped my father. No amount of lawyers could get our fortunes back. My mother and father would die penniless, in this ugly flat, and I would grow old working at the burger-joint and forever smell like grease and butter. It’d be better to stop fighting it. 

Those thoughts filled my mind until I felt two strong arms wrap around me from behind and pull me close.. Harry was warm, so very warm. I turned around and buried my face in his shoulder as my tears fell down my face. He ran his fingers through my hair and told me that everything was going to be alright, and truth is, I believed him.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Harry pulled away from me so that he could see my face. “We could go to my place.”

I should have said no. My mother needed help with Father, who needed help drinking the last of his Firewhisky, and I needed to get some sleep before going to work in the morning.

“Yeah,” I said after a moment. “I’d like that.”

He nodded and left me alone to clean myself up. I imagined that my nose and eyes were both swollen and red, but when I looked in the bathroom mirror, I only saw a water spot on it’s otherwise perfect surface. 

“Draco?”

I snapped out of my trance and turned. “Sorry. I must be more tired than I thought.”

He looked at me like he didn’t quite believe me, but accepted my answer for the moment and we left. His flat was decorated in mostly red, obnoxiously so, but I didn’t care at this point. I just wanted to stop thinking and just feel. I helped myself to some of his liquor and he laughed, telling me to make myself at home, and he joined me. Soon we were snogging on his sofa, touching each other everywhere. His body was so warm, just like I’d imagined it, and he moaned into my mouth when I straddled his lap.

To his right, a picture of his friends during our last year at Hogwarts sat next to a bright lamp. I didn’t like them looking at us, despite the fact that it hadn’t been charmed to move.

“How Muggle of you.” I said, my eyes still on the picture. “But I suppose it’d be worse if they were moving.”

He reached out and turned the picture on it’s side. “Better?”

“Much.” 

He grabbed the back of my head and pulled me into another kiss, but I didn’t want any of that. I tugged off his shirt and immediately grabbed for his trousers.

“Wait. Don’t you want -”

“Stop talking.” I covered his mouth with mine and unbuttoned his trousers. He lifted my shirt and I took it a step further by slipping out of it and throwing it across the room. His cheeks were flushed and he was looking at me with this lustful gaze that had just a hint of hesitation. Laughter bubbled up in my throat and I kissed him, chuckling into his mouth. “You have had sex by now, haven’t you?”

“Yes!”

“With someone besides the Weaslette?”

His cheeks burned bright red and I smirked. “This is fantastic.”

“I don’t see -” 

I pressed my finger against his lips and he shut up finally. I undressed him then knelt in front of him, a smirk on my lips, and he watched me as I took his cock into my mouth. He moaned and snaked his fingers through my hair, grabbing me lightly, and when he came, Harry cried out my name. I felt oddly satisfied at that and at the end of the night, I didn’t care that we fell asleep nude, pressed against each other on the couch, and, best of all, his arms wrapped around my torso.

~~**~~

I woke up to the sound of voices in the kitchen. Harry had wrapped a red blanket around us the night before, as we fell asleep squeezed together on the couch after sex, but he had disappeared and I used the blanket to cover my nakedness. I recognized his voice immediately, and the second sounded familiar.

Neville Longbottom sat across from Harry in the kitchen. They both drank tea and there were biscuits on the table, but both men had grim expressions on their faces. 

“Draco! You finally woke up,” Harry said. His expression completely shifted to a happier one, but that only made me more suspicious.

“Yes, though I fear your use of the word finally. Is eight o’clock late in your world?”

“Draco’s always been a late sleeper.” Her voice came from behind me and I spun around to see Pansy smiling at me with Astoria next to her, holding her hand. “He just hates getting up before noon.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Potter had a tip about our case.” Pansy smiled. “Astoria just tagged along.”

Astoria waved at me, her eyes twinkling with mischief again, and I groaned. No way to deny last night’s after-hours sex. Not with me standing in the middle of Harry’s kitchen, nude except for a blanket. 

“Harry said you’ve been spacing out a lot,” Longbottom said. “And that your father started out with similar symptoms. There have been a few cases of former Death Eaters suffering similar ailments, but we’ve been keeping it quiet so that we can investigate without spooking whoever is doing it.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

“Poison. With one, it was in his tea. Another, his liquor. It causes their magic to essentially block the soul, so they eventually act like they’ve gotten the Kiss.”

“You’re saying someone poisoned my father’s Firewhisky.”

“Perhaps. Harry said he saw you drink some. Have you been spacing out when you see small circles? All of a sudden feeling like everything is helpless?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I asked, “Can it be reversed?”

“In most cases.”

Astoria squeezed my shoulder. “This is great news, isn’t it, Draco?”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, and stayed silent while he tested my saliva for the poison. To my relief, it came out positive and I visibly relaxed. My father was going to get better. I drank the antidote and answered Pansy’s questions about where we bought the Firewhisky in a daze. Harry never left. He sat next to me and squeezed my hand in quiet support. 

Once we were alone, I turned to him and said, “You have a hero complex.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You keep doing unnecessary things. We aren’t a couple, Potter. You don’t have to sit there and act like it.”

He shrugged. “Maybe not. But you do owe me that date.”

“I haven’t changed since Hogwarts. You realize that right? I appreciate you helping me with my father but -”

He leaned forward and caught my lips mid-sentence. I kissed him back, somehow not annoyed that he chose to shut me up with a kiss, and when we parted, he grinned at me.

“Are you sure you haven’t been poisoned too?” I asked.

“Maybe. The guy at the register slipped something into the burgers I’ve been eating for the past few months.”

“Burgers? What are you - Merlin’s beard. No wonder you seem to put on a few pounds since Hogwarts. Gerald’s Burgers is filled with grease and annoyed employees.”

Harry snickered and pulled me in for another kiss, then said, “At least the employees are sexy. What time are you off today?”

“Seven… Harry, why didn’t you become an Auror?”

His smile disappeared and he leaned back. “Because I didn’t want to chase after people for the rest of my life. I’ve done that my entire life.”

“So you wanted to do something different?”

“Yeah, I guess. I wasn’t happy. I didn’t like who I’d become either. I was stressed and angry all the time so I changed what I was doing. Why?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I was just thinking how good I was at catching your little army during fifth year.”

“I’d hardly say you were good at it.”

I ignored him and continued, “And I was thinking that if Pansy could become an Auror, I might be able to, too.”

Fearing I’d see that he found the idea as ridiculous as I did, I kept my eyes focused on the table so that I couldn’t see his expression. A part of me wanted to take it back and claim that I was joking, but an even larger part of me wanted to catch the person responsible for my father’s condition. To think that he had probably done worse things to others made my stomach turn. If my life had taken the route that it should have, if the war had never happened, if I had continued to live in luxury and ignorance, I might’ve ended up doing worse things than what I’d already done. 

“I think you can be anything you want.” Harry’s voice pulled me away from my thoughts and I looked up. His grin practically reached his eyes - the emotions certainly did - and I couldn’t help but find my spirit instantly lifted. 

Harry Potter was reaching out to me, like I had to him our first year, except we weren’t those boys anymore. Too much had happened since then. In the future, I might end up an Auror, or something else I haven’t even thought of yet. It may have been the toxin leaving my body or it could have been the simple fact that I had a goal that was mine alone, but either way, I felt free. I smiled and kissed Harry again. I just might end up a dragon after all.

**Author's Note:**

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